More Than The World
by Pavid
Summary: It's always the same. Because Will cares about Warren more than he cares about the world. Warren/Will slash M/M. T just to be veeery safe.


_I always feel really lame when I think about the fact that I write slash for Sky High. But then I remember that you guys reading this won't judge me because you're reading slash for Sky High. First fan-fic ever written! It's kind of lame and angsty... So sorry about that. _

_Warnings: Slash, veeeeery slight mention of sex, mentions of alcohol, angsty-ness and tears._

_Disclaimer: I hold no ownership over any of the characters used in this story, and am making no profit over this work._

It's always the same.

Because Will cares about Warren more than he cares about the world. Because Will knows how to save the world. Because no one knows how to save Warren.

It's starts out slow. Remarkably slow. So incredibly slow. A friendship blossoming between two enemies, because if there's anything Will's good at other than saving the world, it's breaking down Warren's fiery barriers.

They manage to keep this shaky but close friendship up for about a year. A year before everything in Will Stronghold's world comes crashing down.

The Commander is strong. He's super-strong. But he's not invincible, as the world finds out. All it takes is an appropriately timed explosion, and they're scraping little bits of Will's father off the sidewalk.

And in this moment, it's not Layla that he turns to for comfort. It's Warren.

Warren seems unsurprised to find Will on his doorstep at one in the morning, shivering with cold, eyes bright with unshed tears. He wordlessly ushers him inside, and they sit together in front of the fire place. They don't speak. But they don't need to.

And this might be when their relationship starts to change. There is something growing in Will. A feeling. A feeling he's never felt before. But this feeling makes him happy, and happiness is something he certainly doesn't mind.

He notices. Will notices because he's not stupid, merely naive. Warren is the cause of this new happiness, the way he stares at Will, supposedly with malice, the way he always has a biting retort for any one of the other's thoughtless remarks, the way he sometimes gives a tiny, miniscule, almost imperceptible twitch of his lips, and yes, yes, that _is_ a smile.

What Will doesn't notice is that Warren is feeling this happiness as well. That his stares are only for Will, because Will is the only thing he sees anymore. Before Will, there was nothing for him. The son of a captured Villain, an inactive drunk of a hero, destined only for darkness, before the little Stronghold comes along and he's just bright enough to illuminate Warren's path...

Will never notices Warren's problems, but that's okay.

Will sometimes wonders if Warren is psychic, because the next time he shows up on his doorstep at one in the morning, Warren already has hot chocolate on the stove, a blanket on the couch.

And Warren is completely prepared to catch Will when he falls, sobbing, into his arms. Layla's left him, and he can't help but think it's because he's no longer adequate. No longer the super-hero, only the mediocre little boy who wants to save the world.

And Warren kisses his hair and clutches him tight like he's the only line tethering him to this earth, and Will is breaking, snapping, so fast, too fast, and, Warren is starting to drift away again.

But Will comes again the next night, and the night after that. He comes again and again, like he can't get enough, and for Warren, it's just enough. Sometimes they talk, sometimes they just hold each other, not speaking a word. Until finally, Will plucks up his courage and kisses Warren smack on the mouth, hands tangled in his long dark hair as they fall back onto the couch cushions.

And after that they spend most of their nights in bed.

It's not weird, because their relationship is not one that easily defined. And they don't tell their friends, they don't tell their mothers, they don't even really tell themselves. It's not something that they talk about happening, it's just something that happens.

And this is what Will needs to carry on, carry on through school, carry on to becoming a hero, fame to rival that of his father, rival that of his recently deceased mother. This is what Warren needs to keep himself living, to keep himself out of the dark and on this path Will has shown him, to become a hero, to help others, to help himself.

And Warren doesn't even think he has any problems to notice anymore.

Until one night and he comes home to their shared apartment, and he sees the all too horrifyingly familiar bottles, strewn across the floor, and he finds Will in the bedroom, collapsed at the foot of the bed, staring soullessly at a photo of Layla, a newspaper laying, abandoned, next to him.

And Warren hardly glances at the name of the article, and he holds Will tightly, trying to comfort him, because now that she's gone as well, Warren is all that Will has left. There are moments he wants to cry himself, but he doesn't think it will help anything.

And through all of this, through both of their hero duties, Warren manages to hold Will together as he becomes more and more fragile, split between trying to keep up appearances for the public, and breaking down every night when they're alone. And at this time, Warren too is slipping, but he won't let Will see.

And Will still doesn't ever notice any of Warren's problems, but it's still okay.

For a while Will is getting better, and then much too quickly for Warren to track, he's getting worse again. Will is like an ocean of fluctuating emotions, almost like two completely different people, leaving Warren to walk this tightrope, halfway between both of Will's sides, trying to be there for one until he's suddenly the other.

And at night when Warren wakes up to Will clutching onto his chest, sobbing, and begging, 'Please, please, _please_. Warren... Please.' and Will has no idea what he's asking for, but Warren always manages to provide it for him.

After a close call with Will, a villain getting just almost close enough to... Warren insists on them working together. Of course this causes an uproar, of course everyone speculates as to their non-professional relationship. Warren is glad that Will doesn't seem to mind, but his relief is short-lived when he finds that the stress is beginning to get to him.

There's a battle, and it gets out of hand, and Warren is injured because he doesn't want Will to have any physical scars to match his mental ones.

And this is about the point when Will's mid-night pleas turn to apologies, and 'Sorry, I'm so sorry...' is the only noise that fills the dead night air.

For a few seconds Warren thinks that Will might be noticing some of his problems... And isn't sure if he thinks this is a good thing or not.

They say all that needs to be said through touches, because words are never enough. Will seeks comfort and Warren is providing more than enough. For once Warren is paving Will's golden path, and he refuses to let Will touch the ground before he's found it.

With every sunrise, with every love-bite, with every hushed 'I love you. I love you.' Will gets better. Gets brighter. And Warren finds himself living more and more each day.

To Warren Will means so much more than the world.

And Will never does notice any of Warren's problems. But it's okay, because somehow he always manages to solve them anyways.

_I don't know why Will is breaking down so badly... I guess this story stemmed from me thinking how stressful it would be to be a superhero, especially one destined to be as famous as Will Stronghold. So that's just it I guess... Will doesn't cope well under stress. -_-' Bad explanation is bad. Sorry._


End file.
